Page 52 of Hostile Secret
She laughs lightly. “It seems perfectly content now.”
“Call it, Lola,” I growl under my breath.
“Goodnight, Giovanni,” she replies in a sing-song voice as the dark corridor swallows her up.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter when the dog’s sleepy gaze finds mine from its prime position next to me. “Do not think this makes us friends.”
Knocking back more whiskey, I search the starry sky, aware of the dog's wet nose next to my curled fist. It inches a little closer and I have to stop myself from stroking its annoying head.
Instead, I inhale another lungful of smoke and gaze out at the heavens in silence, thinking about the windowless view from India’s cell, and how she’s trapped—safe.
Fishing out my cell phone, I tap on my brother’s number and listen to the ring tone.
“Gio, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tomás answers. “Are you calling to tell me India’s a better shot than you?”
I chuckle, my head falling back to settle on the couch. It's been a long night. “Not a chance.”
“Dré said she has a sniper's aim. You should watch yourself; you might lose your title to a little girl.” The tone of his voice tells me he’s probably smirking.
If I’m not careful, I’ll lose my mind to a girl, never mind anything else.
“Think about it. If she takes my title, she’d also be a better shot than you,capo.” I point out, reaching sideways to flick ash into a cylindrical pot. “I’m sure the woman could beat your shit efforts with a blindfold on.”
My dick jerks at the thought.
“Woman…” Tomás muses. “… is this the samewomanDré thinks of as a kid sister?”
Even with the weed in my lungs, my pulse thrums. “Even kid sisters grow into women.” I glance at my watch. It's half an hour after midnight. “Did you know it was her birthday?”
“Dré mentioned it earlier when I was trying to calm him down, because she was on the loose in the big, bad world.”
“About that…” My heavy eyelids close briefly. “I accidentally on purpose killed David Castillo and his guys.”
There are a few seconds of silence, broken by Tomás’ gravelly voice. “You don’t do anything by accident, Gio. And you would have told me first if you’d thought they were involved in Papá’s murder. So, what did they do?”
I mess up my hair and drag a hand down my face, leaving the blunt resting on my lips as I speak. “He roughed her up. The cunt was going to rape India.”
“Then you did what you had to. I would have killed the son of a bitch too.” He pauses. “Are you telling me this, because someone saw you? Will Blanco know it was a Souza attack?”
“Do I think anyone saw me––no,” I say confidently. I’m always careful. “Do I think they’ll figure out India had something to do with it––probably.”
“So, they’ll go after her.”
* * *
I couldn’t sleep.
It’s Saturday morning and I have somewhere else to be, except I’m sitting in an uncomfortable chair a few meters away from my sweet obsession.
When I’d redesigned this bunker to fit rows of discreet cabinets for my arsenal of weapons, I didn’t think I’d bring another prisoner in here again.
All that changed two years ago when I had to reconfigure my living arrangements. So, this inflexible chair and central steel table are the only moveable pieces of furniture in here.
A strip of LED lights transforms the darkness into a shadowy haze, just enough to watch the birthday girl sleep on top of a thin camping mattress and blanket.
I stay still, intrigued by her peacefulness and how hot she looks wearing a plain black t-shirt and nothing else. After a few minutes of stroking my boner, a shiver of dark desire sprinkles me with goosebumps.
She looks angelic within the cage I’ve trapped her in. I push out of the chair; my unsatisfied dick walloping the landscape of my lower abdomen and pull up my joggers.
